Insect

Dust and smoke drifted through the collapsed factory. Surrounded by dozens of ghouls closing in from all sides, Wen Wen walked forward as if taking a leisurely stroll. With casual waves of her hand, she impaled the grotesque monstrosities in her path one by one upon sharp crystalline trees that burst from the earth. Facing her sharp interrogation, the voice on the other end of the phone continued calmly without the slightest irritation or displeasure, maintaining an eternal good temper that patiently endured every question and complaint from any patient. After all, not a single penny of the consultation fee—one hundred and sixty thousand Federation currency per minute, with any fraction billed as a full minute—would be docked. Caller: [Hope Hospital · Laboratory Department] "The analysis report for sample R54447, collected from the patient Zhu Hong and submitted by you yesterday, has been completed," the physician named Muller said slowly. "We regret to inform you that this is not a standard sample of No. 109 Bloodthirst Syndrome as seen in previous cases, but rather a new strain that has mutated and iterated upon the foundation of Bloodthirst Syndrome." Wen Wen asked, "What does that mean?" "Well, to put it in terms a layman can understand: it is an upgraded, specialized version that is even stronger than the original!" Muller explained, "As everyone knows, the original strain of Bloodthirst Syndrome originated from the Mid-Continent, a plague spawned when the Mid-Continent's Sacrificial King fell into uncontrolled aberration. I will not elaborate on the specific symptoms here, but the end result is the host's complete mutation into a Type-Beta ghoul among aberrant creatures. "However, the strain you provided is entirely different. "Its mutation of the host is merely superficial, functioning more like the refitting of a tool. The blood, life force, and even spiritus consumed by the host ultimately belong to the strain itself. "Much like a parasite, the focus is not on the host, but on the organism. "In the end, even the host will be devoured down to nothing, leaving behind only the strain itself for the controller to draw upon and deploy. With proper handling, amassing an immense reservoir of life force and spiritus within just a few days presents no difficulty at all." At this point, Muller could not help remarking wistfully, "As a tool, such a strain is truly convenient, economical, and exceptionally cost-effective." "Wait—" Detecting a subtle discordance in his tone, Wen Wen instinctively gritted her teeth. "Why are you so clear on the details? Don't tell me you dogs have your hands in this too?" "Naturally! This is our hospital's patented creation! A classic variant cultivated forty-one years ago by Director Yan of the Infectious Disease Department!" Muller replied proudly, "Although restricted by the T5 Protocol and barred from large-scale public deployment, not a single partner who has purchased the corresponding technology has failed to shower our hospital's technical expertise with praise!" "You motherf—" Wen Wen nearly crushed her phone. Even though she knew full well that to the research lunatics at Hope Hospital, morals and ethics were less useful than a disposable diaper, she still could not fight the urge to beat someone senseless. Why on earth hadn't she chosen the Matrix back then that let you slap someone right through their computer screen? Otherwise, why would she have to put up with this infuriating bullshit?! "However, please rest assured. Our hospital currently possesses neither the qualifications nor the permit for external clinical excursions, so naturally we will not interfere with sovereign territory outside our campus. "Under our cooperation agreement with the Federation Security Bureau, we will fully cooperate in the event of such a terrorist incident," Muller hurried to add. "According to hospital regulations, all achievements and products rated Grade C1 or above are strictly prohibited from distribution to non-partner entities, and all individuals who have accessed them leave records in the Visitor Reception Center's archives. "According to the records, there are currently forty-one individuals who possess and know how to utilize this strain. "Among them, the only one with any connection to the Dragon Cult is Andreas Lawrence, a former emergency department assistant physician expelled by our hospital sixteen years ago for academic misconduct." "Or perhaps you are more familiar with his other moniker..." Muller uttered the name: "[Insect]." A wanted fugitive featured on the bounty lists of both the Federation and the Empire, an escapee from Northern Mountains Prison, the cultist who had single-handedly orchestrated the Empire's Huayue Tragedy. One of the Dragon Cult's sixteen Shepherds—the Aberrant Insect. "If it is indeed him, you must be careful," Muller warned in conclusion. "When that fellow sets to work, he always likes to stir up massive chaos..." Wen Wen did not speak. She turned in silence, gazing far into the distance from the foothills... at the crimson radiance slowly rising in scattered specks across Beishan District. It was aberrant spiritus, imperceptible to the naked eye of ordinary mortals. Solid as physical matter, it climbed into the sky and erupted with a roar. Countless threads of crimson extended and converged, weaving together like a colossal tree made of blood vessels. Amid shrill, mocking laughter, it danced with sinister allure. *** Ten minutes earlier, Mercy Hospital, Inpatient Building. "Rounds, morning rounds!" A nurse hurried at the head of the group, knocking on doors one by one ahead of the attending physician's inspection. "Everyone please tidy up your clutter. No instant noodles in bed! Auntie, take down your underwear—you can't hang it to dry in the doorway!" With that, she yanked down an astoundingly loose, massive pair of underpants and tossed them back to their owner. Beside them, Ji Jue was utterly dumbfounded. He had walked in and out of the room so many times and had genuinely assumed it was an old man's tank top! Then he watched the old woman turn right back around... and hang it straight back up! Ji Jue could not help giving her a silent thumbs-up. Truly indomitable! "Uncle, if it hurts, all we can do is give you painkillers. It's rheumatism, plus gout. Surgery only treats the symptoms. Drink less alcohol, cut down on rich broths, and keep your diet light." "The wound shows signs of inflammation. Talk with the family. To prevent suppuration, we still need to switch medications... Paying a few extra dollars is better than an amputation. Make sure the situation is clearly communicated." "It's almost completely healed. You'll be discharged soon." Accompanied by the faint murmurs, heavy footsteps paused at the door. It was a physician leaning on a crutch, his leg fitted with a brace. In the sweltering heat, a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead, yet his expression seemed eternally gentle and warm. After checking on the elderly uncle and aunt one by one, he finally looked toward Ji Jue in the innermost bed. After flipping through the medical chart at the foot of the bed, he pressed down on the bruises across Ji Jue's body and the gradually healing burns on his back, nodding in satisfaction. "Recovering well. You're lucky, too—no acute renal failure or nerve damage. We'll observe you for two more days to stabilize your endocrine and hormone levels. "Just take your medicine on time." He waved his hand, and a nurse stepped forward to place a standard paper packet into Ji Jue's palm. "Huh?" Ji Jue froze for a moment, looking down at the paper packet in his hand. "I didn't have this medicine this morning." "Mecobalamin, to nourish the nerves and replenish vitamin B," the doctor pushed up his glasses and smiled. "It promotes nerve regeneration." From the tilted paper packet, two tablets rolled out into Ji Jue's hand, their combined size smaller than half his pinky fingernail. They were dark red, smelling as foul as any standard medicine, carrying a sharp bitterness. "I'm a bit sensitive to bitter tastes," Ji Jue hesitated. "Do I have to take it right now?" The nurse handed him a cup of warm water and urged, "There's another dose tonight. Taking your medication on schedule is the only way to get better fast." Ji Jue fell silent. He stared down at his palm, at the two tablets growing faintly sticky against his sweat, and at the faint, burning crimson within them. And, above all, at the watch notifications that had been flashing continuously before his eyes for moments now: [Active external aberrant spiritus detected. Warning: Large active aberration source detected. Risk of sinful corruption steadily rising. Warning: Unknown aberrant entity detected. Warning. Warning. Warning. Warning...] Warning, warning. Nothing but warnings all damn day. Why don't you call the fucking police for me instead?! Ji Jue sighed, just about to speak, when his gaze drifted toward the doorway, and he froze. "Brother Feng? When did you get here?" Unfortunately, there was no Brother Feng. The doctor and nurse turned their heads, but beyond the open door lay only empty air and a massive pair of underpants fluttering in the breeze. The bad news: this time, there were no divine reinforcements dropping from the heavens. The good news: he had his own divine weapon! With his other hand, Ji Jue had already drawn the pistol from beneath his pillow, aiming it square at the doctor's forehead. Without a second thought, he flicked off the safety and pulled the trigger with every ounce of speed and strength he possessed. A roar erupted in an instant, overlapping and compounding. The spewing muzzle flash danced and flared, gone in a flash, yet reverberating in a continuous thunderclap. In less than a second, Ji Jue could barely feel his finger anymore. Yet he had no time to care. The moment he fired, he launched himself from the hospital bed, throwing his body backward, shattering the windowpane with his back as he plummeted from the fourth floor. Fourth floor, twelve meters, with a scooter shed directly below. With a bit of luck, he wouldn't die on the spot. As long as he survived, he could scramble onto a scooter and make a run for it. Even if things went south, making a massive scene would force them to hesitate to smash the... smash what again? In the rushing wind, his mind went completely blank, the rest of the idiom abruptly slipping away. Because his fall came to an instantaneous halt! Ji Jue hung upside down in midair, gripping the pistol with its glowing-hot barrel, struggling in vain. Yet he could not break free... from the grotesque tentacle coiled around his ankle. Then, another tentacle snaked out from the window, wrapping around his right foot. Then came his hands. It did not even bother snatching away the empty gun, whose firing pin only clicked uselessly against an empty chamber. Just like that—gently, slowly, painstakingly—it hauled him back into the hospital room. And placed him back onto the bed. In the dead silence, even the sound of breathing seemed to have vanished. The patients in the surrounding beds and the nurses merely stared at him with hollow, vacant eyes. Like thralls bound to a ghost. Right before him, the doctor's face, skull, neck, and chest were riddled with bullet holes, dark blood slowly oozing from the wounds. Through the torn flesh, one could vaguely see clusters of writhing tentacles crammed tightly within, slowly creeping through the fractures in his face, waving in the air. "To think you noticed? How curious." The shattered face, still wearing its lingering smile, lifted slowly, producing a raspy voice that sounded as if plucked from a nightmare, brimming with praise. "Truly worthy of a Celestial Chosen who endured ten years under the curse and still managed to awaken on his own! "Such keen perception and sharp instincts are truly eye-opening. No... even more impressive is the sheer resolve to draw a gun on a stranger the moment you sensed something amiss." "I'll awaken your mother's [BLEEP]!" Ji Jue struggled in vain, only to be bound tightly by layers of zip ties until he could no longer move an inch. A nurse stepped forward like a walking corpse, plunging a syringe directly into his neck. Then, darkness claimed his vision. He blacked out. In the final instant, the phone screen beneath the blanket lit up, a text messaging interface flashing as it sent a final message to the contact named Wen Wen: —HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP!!!!